


Tony's New Strength

by Knyghtshade



Series: Tony is more than Ironman [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hostage Situations, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 04:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10153691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knyghtshade/pseuds/Knyghtshade
Summary: Tony doubts his place with the rest of his teammates. They don't trust him do they? Or does he need to trust them?





	

Natasha was going to kill him. Even though this was in no way his fault. He was here, at the convention first, long before she’d shown up with her gun-toting entourage. Whatever happened today, he was holding to that fact until the end. It was not his fault. Truly and honestly. He’d swear it until the day he died. 

Today was not going to be that damned day. 

He didn’t even want to be here. He had a list of things to do Pepper made him come with threats of a week of lab blackouts aided by JARVIS, the traitor. A vacation they said. Take a break they said. Yeah right. 

Whimpering kids huddled around him. All of them bright and shining stars, student interns of Stark Industries. Precocious pre-teens. He’d brought them with for entertainment value. The inventions that bored him, sparked their young imaginations into blazing infernos. He got to watch stars being born in their eyes. That was the only thing that made this trip worth his time. 

He should have stayed home and holed up in his lab. Now, his future minions were in danger because of him. It was a wonder anyone was willing to work for him, what with the constant threats to him and everyone else in a twenty-mile radius.

He’d been crouched down looking at an engine with the teens when the guns had come out. He stayed down. If the thugs, criminal, terrorists- whatever they were- figured out he was here- and who he was ‘cause who didn’t know- the situation would dramatically escalate. It always did. 

The kids clutched at his shirt as he hobbled on his knees with the herd of people as they clustered like frightened sheep. Being extra smart didn’t stop them from being utterly terrified when guns aimed at them. It was actually a pretty strong indication of intelligence. Fear was an appropriate response in this situation. He wasn’t sure what that said about him. It wasn’t fear he shook from. Adrenaline shocked through his veins with all the power of a live electric wire. No, it wasn’t fear. 

Tony pressed a button on the bluetooth in his ear. Smooth static was his only answer. The thugs had brought jammers. JARVIS would already be on red alert. Losing contact was an instant alarm and total silence was damning. Still, it would take time to mobilize a rescue team and gather info from the outside. And, if he was cut off from JARVIS, then Natasha had certainly lost communications with SHIELD. They didn’t, couldn’t know what was going on inside the convention center. Unless he helped. He opened the raw programming of his phone and changed the signal coding to transmit on a different wave length.

Natasha and their mission was clearly the goon’s focus at the moment. 

Tony slide under a table skirt and crawled away from the cluster of bodies. 

At least it wasn’t the Russians this time. Dealing with them always made Black Widow’s trigger finger extra twitchy. He imagined the look in her eyes right now if it had been the Russians and shivered.

Tony really wished he knew what Natasha’s mission was and what the thugs wanted. They were being inconveniently quiet on that point. Boring monologues had their uses at times.

Did Natasha even know he was here? He doubted it. He hadn’t even been let in on that little plan until Pepper had forced him onto a plane full of kids last night. Weirdly enough it’d been fun while it lasted. Kids were bizarre in amazing ways. Too bad he was an infectious curse of bad luck.

The cement floor bruised his kneecaps as he crawled through the tunnel of table clothes. He was still in the engine exhibits, all metals and fuels. Beautiful stuff, if basic, but he needed electronics. It took a strong machine to block JARVIS out of his cell phone. He could build stronger. Actually, all he really need was an antenna to boost his own signal a bit.

Easy peazy lemon squeezy. Whatever that was supposed to mean. He didn’t know. It was one of those random, useless things that cluttered up his neural connections. God, he really wished his brain would shut up and focus.

Tony reached the end of the aisle. Now which way? The convention center was massive. JARVIS would have directed him already. He was good like that. But, he didn’t have JARVIS in his ear at the moment. He had to be a big boy and figure it out all by himself. 

Closing his eyes, Tony mentally retraced his footsteps back for the day. He’d seen the overview of everything as they came in on the balcony. He’d learned the hard way to memorize all exits and anything with useful potential. Right now, the equipment he wanted was left three aisles then right to the far end.

Bruises layered over bruises on his kneecaps. He was not a small child to be crawling around on the floor, and the floor was hard cement. If he just had the suit this would be over already. Tony poked his head out from under the skirting. He wasn’t about to get busted by mere henchman. He was better than that. Not Black Widow or Hawkeye better, but better.

All clear.

He scuttled out and started filching parts off the exhibits. Wire here, a battery there. It didn’t take long. He wasn’t able to receive, but he could transmit.

With low mutters into his blue tooth earpiece, Tony reported the little intel that he knew. It wasn’t much, but it was more than the tactical team had had a moment ago. Basic numbers, (he was guessing about seventeen) origin, (The French of all people. Whatever. Anything, but Russian.) Hostage numbers, (approximately 758.) and lastly Natasha. She was an info point all her own.

That done, Tony turned his attention to some kind of weapon. So many possible toys to build, so little time.

Angry shouts from the gathered crowd shortened that time considerably.

Tony scrambled a taser together in minutes. He didn’t have time to improvise anything cooler. To get info to the outside team he needed to be where the info was located, in the center of the mess. From the arguing, if he didn’t hurry and distract them, someone was going to get shot.

How was this his life? He was supposed to be a spoiled rich brat wallowing around in his money without a care for those beneath him. He did wallow in his money. That was the fun of being a freakin multi-billionaire. When had he started to care though?

He was out of time. God, he wished JARVIs was here with the suit. Every time and never again. The suit was always going to be within reach. He’d thought it was had never considered that someone could actually cut him off from JARVIS. An oversight that would be immediately corrected as soon as he was out of the god-forsaken clusterfuck.

Tony crawled back under the tables and back to the fringes of the hostages. His kids had stayed exactly where he’d left them. Worming his way back into their midst elicited wide eyes and frightened whimpers. Small hands fisted in his clothes.

“Ssh,” he soothed.

He couldn’t stay with them. He could only protect them by helping Natasha and ending it before the situation exploded. 

Today, was one of those few days where it was to his rare advantage that he was short. Tony ducked his head, slumped his shoulders, and slipped deeper into the crowd. He left the kids behind, clumped in a frightened knot. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do yet, but whatever it was, it was better if he wasn’t standing as a blatant target beside them.

Natasha’s red hair was a brilliant beacon. Cords bond her arms hard enough to cut, and five guns remained aimed at her. They knew who they were messing with and were treating her accordingly. Or at least they were trying to, it wasn’t enough of course. She was merely biding her time. For what, it would be nice to know.

Oh well, he was used to working without being kept in the loop. By his supposed team anyway. JARVIS kept him well informed in everything. Though, Bruce never left him out; and, in all honesty, Clint was less excluding and obnoxious these days too. That left the last two core team members: Captain America, and Black Widow; Steve, and Natasha. They didn't trust him. ‘Course, he didn't exactly trust them either, so he supposed that was only fair. Natasha had spied on him. Steve idolized his father. Neither was an unforgivable action, if only he had reason to forgive them. They saw him in tainted light and refused to stop and see him for who he really was.

If they wanted to remain as distant coworkers, well, that was their choice. He’d already opened his home to them, redesigned and upgraded their uniforms and weapons far beyond SHIELD’s capabilities; he had damn-well tried at first, but he knew when to quit. Knew when his attentions weren’t wanted. His father had taught him that much by the time he was five. Speak only when spoken too. Follow orders. Do as you’re told, nothing more nothing less. Be a good little robot. He’d given Butterfingers and Dummy more personality than was ever wanted out of him. But, whatever, he didn’t need Steve and Natasha’s friendship. He had JARVIS, Pepper, Rodney, Bruce, and maybe even Clint.

Either way he would do his best to back Natasha up here. That was his job. She was one of his team.

Right now, he was her unknown ace-in-the-hole.

If only he knew what was going on.

He slunk through the crowd getting closer to Natasha and their captors. They seemed to be looking for someone. A someone, not a something. That was an important distinction. A dangerous one. A thing they could pick up and walk away with to be worried about and tracked down another day. A person would fight, be fought for, suffer if kidnapped. He personally knew how that last one felt. He didn’t recommend the experience. There were better ways to drastically change the direction of ones’ life.

Natasha’s lips were pursed in distant distain, but he was close enough to see the crinkles of concern around her eyes too. This mission was not going to her plans. 

He followed her line of sight. Goons pushed their way through the crowd. One had a hand clamped around the boy’s neck as though he was a misbehaving cub. A little wolf perhaps. The teen was silently mutinous. His jaw was clenched tight enough to make Tony’s teeth hurt just looking at him. Then, he understood. Natasha was on SHIELD business, not Avenger work; villains, not super-villains. There was, in fact, a difference. The teen was a chew toy caught between two mongrel dogs. He didn't mean Natasha, she was just the teeth, SHIELD though, they were dogs through and through.

This wasn't his problem then, except, it was. The teen was Natasha’s mission, Natasha was his teammate, therefore the teen was his mission too.

Why was this his life?

Tony twisted to slide passed an obese man. He grimaced as his arm brushed against the man’s sweat-soaked back. Close confines and stress did that to a person, but… gross. He was so going to need a shower after this. He was on the fringe of space where Natasha stood. A small gap of five paces separated them. It might as well be the Grand Canyon right now. He needed to get closer.

Static buzzed over his ear piece. JARVIS was trying to reestablish communications. Tony tapped out code on his earpiece. It would really make his day if the infiltration team was close. Which meant they were going to be absurdly late, this was the story of his life after all.

The teen was thrown at Natasha’s feet. She didn’t flinch. Her eyes were hard as she stared at the man seemingly in charge. Tony was certain she’d already thought of a dozen ways to kill him. She just needed an opening. Time for Tony Stark to stroll on stage. Cause really, what could be a bigger distraction then one of the richest, most famous people on the planet? God, could he just go back to his workshop already? He was so done with this field trip.

“Hello, gentlemen,” he said. Throwing back his shoulders and tilting his chin up, Tony called on every ounce of arrogance he’d ever used in his life. Pride wrapped around him as a concealing cloak, hiding his fear and uncertainly. He might get shot. He might get his teammate shot. Honestly, they would probably all get shot. Guns whipped around to point at him. All except for the one trained on Natasha, and another on the teen. Damn. Not good enough.

“Who are you?”

Was that a French accent? Since when did the French get up to anything dubious, and get caught at it?

And, seriously, he was going to have to actually introduce himself?

“Stark. This is my convention you are interrupting.” Yes, his name was on this building too. It was on everything. How the fuck did they not know who he was?

One of the men leaned over and whispered into the man’s ear.

Tony clasped his hands behind his back and strolled into the circle. One pace, two. Guns tracked his every move. He tsked in annoyance and cut them a dirty look. He really, really didn’t want to get shot. They didn’t seem the twitchy type, but all it took was one. He moved with controlled caution; no sudden moves.

Another step. The teenager was sitting up until a boot planted in his back and slammed him into the floor again. Kid was going to hurt tomorrow. If he was still alive.

Tony used the distraction to slid sideways towards Natasha. One more.

The leader sneered at him. “You think your famous name will stop this? No, boy is property. We are taking him home. That is all.”

“Boys, are not property,” Tony said. All eyes were on him again. He didn’t dare move.

“This boy is. ‘e is going home to his father.”

A shudder and clenched fists from the teen told Tony all he needed to know about that relationship. He could relate.

“See, I have some objections to this. He’s one of mine now you see.” A spur of the moment plan as his mouth opened and words spewed out of his mouth. “That’s why I’m here you see, I find the brains to run my company. This boy is my apprentice now.”

Natasha’s eyes flicked towards him. Ooh, he surprised the Black Widow with that one. Why, because he was painting himself as a rather blatant target? His armor was a brilliant red and gold, he always made himself a target.

“Yours? ‘e is not yours.

“Well, that’s where we are going to disagree today,” Tony said. “I’ve decided I want him. I don’t share, so we are going to have a bit of a problem. You seem to be attempting to steal a few of my things today, my convention, my apprentice, my friend here.” Tony took a chance and dropped an arm over Natasha’s shoulders. She tensed. She was obviously not undercover, she was dressed in full SHIELD uniform. If they hadn’t figure out that they were teammates yet it was only a matter of time and he might as well use the revelation for his own purposes like finally getting close enough to drop a piece of wire in her hands. It should be stiff enough to free her hands.

The hulking leader of the bad guys said, “If we see even a gleam of your iron armor, Stark, I’ll have multiple holes put into the crowd.”

Tony flinched as Natasha coiled to strike. He tugged her closer under his arm to hide the reaction for their captors. They needed to gather more information before she exploded.

She tilted her head and hissed in his ear. “Why are you interfering?”

Of course that was what she thought of him sticking his neck out for her, interfering. He suddenly wished that Clint was the one on task today. He at least would willingly work with him.

“Ah, you know, couldn’t let you have all the glory.”

He sensed her rolling her eyes.

“Enough of this,” lead goon said.

Right, the bad guys. Focus.

Tony nudged his hip against Natasha’s hard enough for her to feel the makeshift taser he’d tucked under his shirt. He’d pay for the suggestive personal contact later. If they all survived the price would be worth it.

The teen pushed himself to his feet. “I’m not going back. You can shoot me now and save yourselves the trouble.”

Kid had spirit. He was stupid, but he had spirit.

“No. Your father wants you home.”

All eyes were on the defiant teen and the leader now. Tony felt Natasha’s fingers slid under his shirt. He flinched as her cold fingers brushed the skin of his hip. She really was cold-blooded wasn’t she? Everyone else in here was hot and disgustingly sweaty, himself included, while her fingers were like ice. God, he was as bad as they were with the whole making assumptions and all of that, maybe he was the cold-blooded one.

The taser was pretty self-explanatory. Not his best work of course, only so much he could do in five minutes with scavenged equipment.

“I am not going!”

He needed to get the kid out of the line of fire so Natasha could do her thing. Tony let go her and stepped up beside the kid dropping a firm hand on his shoulder. “What he said.” The teen squirmed and Tony squeezed, pinning him in place. “This is not the time to act your age kid, shut up and let us help you,” he hissed.

He didn’t have time to duck. A gun slammed into his temple. Everything flashed bright and then dark. The only thing keeping him upright was his grip on the teen. The boy whimpered and wrapped his arms around Tony, supporting him.

“Get the boy,” the goon leader ordered.

Shit. Now was not the time to be falling down on the job. Tony blinked trying to clear his watering vision. Hands reached passed him and grabbed at the teen who suddenly clutched him in fear.

“No! I don’t want to go back!”

Tony lashed out. His elbow caught the closest goon in the throat. The man choked and stumbled back. Natasha exploded into action. She zapped the leader, who dropped like a stone. She ducked under a gun and kicked the next guy in the nuts.

Someone grabbed the boy from Tony. He whipped around and cold-cocked the guy in the face. Cheekbone crunched.

People always underestimated his physical strength. He wasn’t Captain America by any means, much less a Hulk, but he built robotics for a living, welding large pieces of metal, forging custom pieces to fit his requirements; nevermind the exercise regime he clung to to stay in decent enough shape to breath with a four-inch hole in his chest, and compromised lungs from water-boarding.

The goon went down with a whimper. 

The empty static in his earpiece finally cleared and JARVIS’s voice came through. “Sir, sir?”

“I hear you, go JARVIS.” Tony picked up the goon’s gun and checked it. Cheap work. It’d function, had a high percentage of jamming. He could have designed a better assault rift when he was five. Oh wait, he had. “JARVIS, did you bring me presents?”

“Of course, Sir. Mark 13, ETA 45 seconds. Captain America and the backup team is three minutes out.”

“And why wouldn’t they be, couldn’t be on time for once in their lives.” Tony put the gun to his shoulder and fired a short burst at the goons on the balcony, not quite aiming for their legs. This was not his country, he was not licensed for this mission. He couldn’t kill them and get away with it.  
People screamed and scrambled for cover as the goons gathered themselves enough to fire back. Tony did his best to keep them all ducking for cover.

Then, a familiar whine filled his ears. He dropped the gun and spread his arms. Metal clanked and rotors whirred as the suit opened and wrapped around him. The relief came like a shadow from the desert sun as the cool metal shielded him from the burn of gunfire.

“Thank you, JARVIS. Do you have anything else on these guys?”

“Helicopter on the roof, Sir.”

“Really? Does everyone own a copter these days? Is it that easy? I mean, I know I own like ten through the company, but seriously?”

“Money, sir,” JARVIS drawled.

Tony grumbled. “Like everything else. I only appreciate it when it is mine.” As he absently conversed with JARVIS, he sucker-punched the last of the goons surrounding him. Natasha had the others on this floor under her control.

Where was the teen? In the chaos of gunfire and frightened people, Tony’d lost sight of him, the goon leader too for that matter. Natasha was too busy kicking ass. She didn’t have him in sight either.

Flying to the ceiling, Tony spun in place, ignoring the bullets pinging off his armor. There. The teen climbed the stairs as the goon leader advanced after him.

Shit. 

“Ah no, that kid’s mine now. You cannot have him.” Tony dropped onto the stairs with a clang of metal, a living shield between the goon and the teen. Nothing was getting through the armor. Maybe his team had a point about his worth outside of it; because, he was worth ever so much more inside it. Oops, there was the egotistical bit of his personality. This was really time the time for it to shine forth. He was busy trying to keep people from getting shot by two-bit goons. Guilt at his distraction warred with his self-confidence, both of which interfered with his focus. Oh, right. Maybe it was his turn for a concussion. He’d forgotten about the blow to the head he’d gotten. 

“Tony!” Captain America yelled over the coms.

“Ah, and there’s my back up. Are you really sure you want to push for this? Cause, let me tell you, you are going to lose. You were going to lose before you ever began. The Black Widow was seeing to that, but now, you’ve officially lost.”

There was a different strength in him now as Steve climbed the stairs two at a time behind the goon. If his suit was like shade against burning heat, then the arrival of his team was like a burst of solar energy. He’d had everything in hand as soon as the suit wrapped around his body, but having his team? He'd never realized how much he relied on them emotionally. Sure, he'd felt the debilitation of their doubt in him, but he'd never felt the emboldenment of his spirit in their arrival before. He'd faced most of his trials alone or with them as a team from the start. To have one arrive in the middle of a battle to stand at his side? That was new. Maybe he'd been misjudging things. They meant more to him then he had realized. All of them. A burst of warmth in his chest made him double-check the readings on the arc, but it was fine. Were feelings of true happiness that rare that he had to blame it on a malfunction of his tech before he recognized the emotion? God, he was pathetic.

"Tony, are you alright?" Steve asked.

"All good Capt. Nice of you to join the party. Natasha crashed it with her pals, you might as well join in the fun too."

The goon's gun was up, but trembling. He was starting to get the picture. And nobody had even gotten shot. Almost shot yes. Grazed possibly. Shot? No.

"Thanks for the invitation."

Tony waved it off. "What kind of friend would I be not to invite one of my best buddies." He wondered if Steve would hear the new truth ringing in his words. 

Blue eyes sparkled at him. "I'm honored."

And, there was that spark of warmth in his chest again. 

The goon fired at Steve.

Tony's heart lurched. He'd just had a friendship epiphany; couldn't the bad guys give him five minutes to wrap his emotions around that before shooting at said friend? Nooo, of course not.

The bullet pinged off of Captain America's shield and shattered the balcony glass. People below screamed as the glass rained down on them.

Tony launched forward and grabbed the gun and crushed the barrel in his metal-clad fist. "You are done here."

Spinning the man around, he slammed him up against the unyielding wall. Handcuffs popped out of a side compartment on his hip. He was none too careful as he tightened the coils. He stopped just short of cutting off circulation to the man's fingers. 

"You all right kid?" He asked the teen cowering on the stairs.

The teen flinched. "Yeah."

Steve offered him a hand and hauled him to his feet with a hard pull.

"What's going to happen now?" the teen asked.

Steve rested a steady hand on his shoulder and looked to Tony. He was asking Tony, letting him retain the lead. The revelations and epiphanies just kept coming.

"What's your name, kid?" Tony asked, glad that the armor's voice modulator would hide his emotional confusion with flat, mechanical tones.

"Adrian. Adrian Leroche." The surname fell from his lips with a slur of disgust.

"Well, Adrian, like I said you are one of mine now." Tony shoved the handcuffed goon at the approaching group of SHIELD men. "If you want to be. If you have better plans..." He shrugged. "That's your choice."

This was a blind offer. He still had no idea why the goons had been after the kid. Familial issues obviously, but there was more to it than that. You didn't come to a science convention to hide, you came to reveal something to the world. Something with the power to get you in the spotlight. A spotlight that would be hard to disappear from if you caught right people's attention.

Adrian's black eyes were wary. Understandable. "What would I have to do?"

"That depends on what you can do," Tony said.

Black eyes narrowed.

"And," Tony kept speaking before the kid could get the wrong idea in his head. He knew how it felt to be used as a tool and discarded. "On what you want to do. If you are here, you are smart. If you are smart, I can use those brains at Stark Industries. Finish your schooling and have a job waiting for you when you graduate."

The teen still looked like a feral dog eyeing the hand trying to feed him. 

Tony took a chance on the reason. “My company does not produce weapons anymore. Not for anyone.”

The shoulders under Steve’s hand slackened as defiance drained away. “What if I don’t want to work for you?”

“Then you figure out what you do want and I’ll give you a foundation to build on.”

He couldn’t support every broken child - he’d go bankrupt in a day – but he could extend a hand to those few that fell down in front of him.

Natasha joined them. “We have everyone in custody.” She handed Tony a broken, makeshift taser. “Thanks, Tony. Can you fix this? It wasn’t bad.” 

“Fix it?” Tony scoffed around the lump in his throat. He’d helped her. Without the suit and she’d thanked him for it. “If you liked it that much I will build you a proper one.” He sneered and pinch the devise holding it up to inspect. It sparked fitfully as the wires touched. “This thing is just some junk I put together from the show floor. Imagine what it could’ve been, will be, done in my workshop.” 

“Civilian injuries?” Steve asked. Adrian paled.

“Cuts and bruises,” Natasha said. “Nothing significant.”

Oh god, his kids. He’d left them in that mess somewhere. If there was a single scratch on them, the parents were going to sue, and Pepper was going to murder him. Even though the entire thing was her idea in the first place.

Natasha sensed his silent panic. “Your mini apprentices are fine, Tony. Coulson is keeping an eye on them.” 

“Ah, the resident SHIELD assigned babysitter.” Thank god, Coulson kept a steady hand on FURY, SHIELD, and the Avengers, he was the best man for the job to take care of the Stark minions… He really needed to be sure and not ever, ever call them that in front of Pepper.

“Everyone is all right?” Adrian asked.

Tony supposed the kid felt like it was his fault. He was the reason the goon squad had shown up here at the convention after all. But, he hadn’t been the one to order gun-waving numbskulls into creating a hostage situation. That was on Adrian’s father, or whomever was at the head of this snake. Tony cut a look at Natasha. She knew, or would know. The mission was not complete until the head of the snake was cut off.

“Everyone is fine, Adrian. We need to get you somewhere safe, until you decide what you want to do,” Steve said.

And that was that. Adrian nodded meekly and walked with them to the transport ship. All of the fight was worn out of him. Coulson had everything well in hand with the local law enforcement. Tony’s minions cheered when they saw him. He did a quick head count and a secret fear died as he reached the original number, plus one as Adrian fidgeted nearby. They were all safe. No one had gotten shot, or worse, died. They’d done it. Steve and Natasha stood at his back strong and sure. Together, they’d stopped the bad guys. His team. His friends. His family.


End file.
